Late Night Thoughts
by Sakuyan
Summary: [Killer x OC] For Lady, he'd go to war. But for Stefan, he'd raise hell.


**A/N:** The original Canon x OC pairing _finally_ finds its way on a writing platform! (Well, I posted it on dA back in 2017 but shh.) These two are quite close to my heart because I made Stefan back in, I think 2010?, so he's one of the _original original_ characters of mine. He's changed a lot in eight years, let's just say that.

Commentary and feedback is appreciated! Liked it? Didn't like it? Feel free to tell me, but flames will be used to roast marshmallows. ;3

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 **Late Night Thoughts**

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They follow wherever she goes. Sometimes it leads them in danger, other times it's a vacant place where weary bones can rest. Lady, despite never saying a word and seeming to have no capacity for human emotion, seems to know when those in her group need time to rejuvenate themselves. It's an odd thing, but not one anyone questions.

The moon hangs high and heavy in the sky, while stars twinkle and dance about. Gilbert's off to who knows where, while Lady sits about ten feet away, throwing pebbles in puddles nearby. It's an achingly human thing and it makes Killer wonder if somewhere, deep underneath the malice, is someone who feels and experiences things everyone else does.

He doesn't have much time to dwell on it. Someone sits next to him and the man knows without looking it's Stefan. It's obvious; the blond is the one person who would go near him and stay by his side even through the most horrendous events. Stefan's proven his loyalty time and time again, yet sometimes Killer thinks Stefan would be better off without him.

Who wouldn't be? He's on the top of America's Most Wanted list and did things a lot of people cringe at. Killer has his name for good reason; he's killed so many people he lost track after the 15th one. It's double that or maybe more.

Then there's Stefan, one of those kids who ran away from home. Killer was dumbfounded when he found out the boy who stuck by him was actually the Tsar of Russia's son. Stefan didn't seem to care about his royal title; he said ages ago all he wanted was some form of freedom, to get away from the tedious meetings and live life as an average person.

That turned out well, didn't it? Killer and Stefan met by pure chance and for some reason the twenty three year old stayed with him. Killer questioned that on a regular basis; who in their right mind would stick around a serial killer? Wouldn't they be afraid of meeting their end while they slept? And yet the Russian never left. He stuck by his side since he was sixteen and showed no signs of leaving in the near future.

"You're thinking. Where's the bomb?" Stefan jokes, nudging the older man in the side.

Killer rolls his eyes. "It's about to drop on your head."

"My hair doesn't do well being fringed; you know that by now."

They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, the sole sounds being ones from nature. Killer breaks it with, "Why haven't you left yet?"

Stefan arches an eyebrow, head tipped a bit to the right. "You always ask me that and I tell you the same thing."

"I don't understand it. I think I never will," Killer mutters, looking upwards.

"You don't need to understand it, you big oaf." The Russian blows out an amused sigh and leans back against the metal fence. "Just know if the world turns on you, I'll be right next to you, fighting the bastard off."

Killer flicks his gaze over to the younger man. His crimson orbs look out at buildings far off, knees drawn up as a rest for his head. Blond tresses blow about as a gust of wind hits them, and Stefan fixes his hair before resuming his earlier position. The American had no idea how, but in the seven years he and Stefan traveled together, he found someone he wanted to protect and shield from anyone who would dare cause him harm. And, no matter how foolish it was, Killer wanted to pull Stefan close to him and never let go.

Stefan was quite open about his sexuality, despite it being something many people frowned upon. He'd been caught kissing men in public, despite his status, and it earned him quite the beating many times. The man was covered in scars from them and Killer knows it's a big part of why Stefan wanted to leave and never look back. In America, homosexuality was a bit more accepted, but it was still frowned upon. It was in every corner of the world.

Shameful as it is to admit, Killer was somewhat disgusted when he found out it. He took one of his knives to Stefan's throat and told him if he tried anything funny he'd slit it in his sleep. Stefan, in response, had smirked at him and that was the end of that.

Now Killer found himself at war with his own emotions. Part of him wanted Stefan to leave and never look back, but another yearned for him to stay. It was irritating. Before the bastard waltzed in his life, Killer didn't give a damn about anyone, true to nature. Yet here he was with three other companions; one of them he couldn't give two fucks about but the other two? He'd go to war to protect them.

Stefan taps his shoulder. Killer looks at him, eyebrow cocked in confusion. "You know you're pretty cute when you're deep in thought."

"...Shut up."

"Calling it as I see it."

The younger man goes back to staring. Without much thought, Killer grabs Stefan's chin and forces the other to look at him. "You always look... cute."

"Aww! That's so sweet," Stefan coos, a shit eating grin on his face. He leans forward and pecks Killer's lips. "I'm sure I don't _all the time_ but the sentiment is nice."

Killer coughs, trying to fight off the blush. He crosses his arms and looks away. However, he feels weight on his shoulder, and smiles just slightly. He wraps an arm around Stefan and pulls him close.

For Lady, he'd go to war. But for Stefan, he'd raise hell.

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 ** _Fin._**


End file.
